


Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?

by cauldronofdoom



Series: Living with the Mob [5]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cauldronofdoom/pseuds/cauldronofdoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is thirty-five years old. That means that he is too old for this sort of thing.</p>
<p>Except he really isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Shakespear's Sonnet 18

Thor knew that this was one of the oldest Universities in this country. He knew it was ‘ivy league’, which really only meant it was old enough to have horrible insulation and need the protection of plants to be liveable. He knew it was prestigious.

It was built in a similar style to the ‘new’ library at his University. 

Not every school could be still using buildings over a millennia old, he knew, but he felt it really said something that their ‘old’ buildings were only in their third century of life. They had their own history, of course, but there was just so much more in his homeland. 

He’d hoped to go stay England when he got his degree in English Literature. It wasn’t Norway, but it was at least Europe. The immigration laws, however, would not let him. Not with his degree and lack of resources. He hadn’t wanted to go home, still smarting over the bitter argument with his father. So he’d accepted a job offer in the States that would supposedly let him work towards getting American citizenship. Americans could go almost anywhere, and they did have their own academic spheres. It had seemed like a good idea.

What it was, was a lie.

He was lost in thought, contemplating how he’d thought a place like this might be waiting for him, when he felt something hit him.

Someone, actually, he realized even as he leaned down to apologize and offer a hand up. The woman waved off his apology with a harried looking smile and pulled at the papers around her, trying to sort them into some order. 

Thor quickly retrieved some sheets that had caught in the wind and started flying away, earning himself a much more friendly smile.

Her face was open, her lovely, brown eyes shone, and her long, auburn hair tumbled in the wind. That was it for Thor, that look. He’d seen lovely women before, of course. Natasha was as beautiful as she was deadly, Jan was sweet and cute while still being sly and devious, and Ororo had a regal and elegant grace that matched her fineness and strength, both inner and outer. His childhood friend Sif had stood out among their more usually blonde neighbors like a sleek, clever raven in the middle of a flock of sparrows. He didn’t know what it was about this woman before him that caused it, when beautiful and capable women before hadn’t managed, but he suddenly felt he understood the idea of ‘love at first sight’. 

He was a thirty-four year old mobster. He was supposed to be above this.

“I am most sorry, milady, I do apologize most earnestly.” He babbled, only vaguely aware of what he was saying. “I’m afraid I was distracted by the fine architecture and landscaping that this school has been blessed with, and was not paying the attention I ought to my feet.” 

She grinned then, the faintly mysterious edge to her beauty disappearing under the layer of mischief that now appeared. “The architecture, hunh? It’s no trouble. I wasn’t watching either, though I don’t have your excuse. I was just stuck inside my own head until I bounced off of you.” He handed her the last of the papers he’d gathered, and she stuffed them in the files with the others without checking what they were. “Thanks for helping me pick them up. I really do appreciate it.” She was still smiling, and Thor couldn’t help offering her a hand up, then extending it to a proper handshake of greeting.

“I am Thor.” He offered, charmed by the bemused crinkle in her brow.

“What, like the god?” She asked.

“Very. He is my namesake.” At her still confused expression, he clarified. “It is a common enough name in my home country. Even here, where there is little mythology to draw on, it is common to give names from either older religions and cultures, like Diana, Athena, or Jason, or from Christianity, like David, John, or Sarah.”

She smiled again then. “Well, I’m a Jane, no real story there. I’ve never given too much thought to names and their backgrounds. I’ve always been more interested in the stars. I’m an astrophysicist.” She clarified, seeing his own curiosity. 

“Ah! You must be the new-come instructor, Doctor Foster. Two friends of mine spent an interesting evening when news of your hire became known to us going through your journals. I confess, the rest of us had not a clue what they were discussing, and tuned them out rather quickly.”

She laughed, and he felt absurdly proud of himself for causing it. “Yeah, that’s me. You didn’t join in? You seem rather intelligent and well-read to me.”

He grinned, but ducked his head in embarrassment. “My background is in English Lit, milady. And I’m afraid much of what you would consider ‘plain English’ is beyond me, especially where science is concerned. It is not really something I converse with others over, and there is simply no other way for me to pick up the language without specifically seeking for it.”

She nodded, seeming to understand. He could tell that she was itching to leave, though he took no offence. She probably had a class or meeting to get to. “At the moment, though, all I’m seeking is the school store. A friend of mine wishes to acquire more of their graphing paper, as he likes it better than that available in the stores. He knew I would be in the area today, and requested my assistance with this task.”

Dr. Foster laughed again, smiled some more, and gave him directions. She left with a wave, and he stared after her like a besotted fool for a few moments before he was able to pull himself together. 

He really was too old for this, but that didn’t keep the foolish smile from creeping onto his face.


End file.
